


The Will Of The Gods

by RaeC



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Angst, Drama, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-07-05
Updated: 2002-07-05
Packaged: 2017-11-10 13:21:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/466755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaeC/pseuds/RaeC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack learns that teasing Evil Overlords is not a great idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Will Of The Gods

**Rook takes Queen**

-October 1999- 

Some days it just doesn't pay to wake up. And if I knew that day would have been one of those days, I think I would have slept in. Maybe taken more time shaving. Stopped off at the new coffee shop down the street and grabbed a cappuccino. Took a walk around the block. Got a dog. A really big dog. 

And even if I'd known it would go down the way it did, I still would have tried. Not that chains are my favorite fashion statement, but Jacob is Carter's dad. I couldn't let that slimy snakehead have him. Even if he weren't related to the Major, I'd have saved him. I wouldn't wish time in a Goa'uld prison on anyone. A little beating, a little blood, fry a few brain cells with the Goa'uld version of a palm pilot...just your average day in a torture chamber. 

You really have to wonder if the evil dark overlords of the universe work from the same handbook. What, do they have a club somewhere that they share the secrets of dungeon building? Oh, I know. It's a yearly convention in Las Vegas. They gather for a good game of poker, spend time in meetings on the best ways to break a prisoner for fun, and compare notes on how to rule the universe. Or is that galaxy? 

Things get confusing when it's always dark, and you haven't eaten, and your body hurts like a son of a bitch. 

I wonder how long I get to hang around here today? The old arm muscles are still a bit tender from yesterday. I don't remember anything past taunting Apophis as he ran from the Asgard. How's that saying go? It's not nice to tease Evil Overlords. Another thing that must be in the handbook. 

It's quiet here. Too damn quiet. How long have I been here now? A week, two weeks? Feels more like a year. I can barely stand on my own. Muscles spasms in my legs, in my arms, in hurts to just breathe. My hair hurts. And this room, it can't be any bigger than a large closet. I didn't think the Goa'uld knew how to build something smaller than a stadium. Must have run out of money when they got to this part of the ship. No gold writing on the wall. The only time there's light is when Huey, Luey and Dewey come to visit. 

How long can a person survive in solitary before going totally insane? Each day it's the same...a glass of some vile liquid (probably scraps saved from breakfast ten days ago and evolved into God knows what), soapy water tossed on me, and scrubbed with a brush. Then... 

Nothing but... 

Pain. 

~~~ 

Pain. Thirst. Barely able to feel my hands this time, the swelling causing the manacles to cut into my wrists. Every little shift adding yet another cut and the strain is almost more than my arms can take. Barely able to stand up. Barely able to breath. I'm beginning to think I've got at least one broken rib. 

The worst part is the boredom, the horrible, mind-numbing boredom. You hang around for hours with nothing to do, pain your constant companion. The only weapon you have against it is your memories and thoughts of escape. 

That's when the snakehead started using drugs. As if the torture wasn't enough, robbing me of control of my body and my pride. He wanted my mind. One stick and the world went dark except for the pain. That's all I could think about. 

The pain. 

_How to Survive Life as a Prisoner of War..._

> Step One: Don't get caught. 
> 
> Step Two: Remember it's all in your head. 
> 
> Step Three: Escape. 
> 
> Step Four: Refer to Step One. 

Step one is very important. Very, very important. Too bad I fucked that part up. Guess I'll have to move on to step two. 

A sense of humour is essential to surviving in a POW camp. Along with making contact with your fellow prisoners. Horror, for some odd reason, is always better when the guy in the next cell is suffering along with you. Just my luck, I'm the only poor bastard in this prison. 

Star Wars if it was written by a redneck: Luke, use the truck! 

I crack myself up. 

One-two, buckle my shoe. Three-four, shut the door. Five-six pixie sticks! 

God, I just don't think that anyone thought of the Goa'uld when they were teaching those survival courses. Assuming you managed to live after your first hour of captivity, you are assured of a life of living hell. No, make that a death of everlasting hell. 

There is no such thing as 'life' in the Goa'uld vocabulary. There are the Goa'uld and then there's everyone else. 

~~~ 

"Awaken, O'Neill." 

Fuck! When did *he* come in? And why is he so God damn cheerful? 

"Well if it isn't Apophis, scourge of the universe." Touch a nerve there, Apophis? Now is probably not the best time to goad him, but hey, I've got nothing better to do. What's one more split lip? Gloat while you can, Apophis. I'm not going to be here long enough for you enjoy it. 

"Insolent Tau'ri. You will suffer." Back off bug breath. 

"Whoa! What did you have for lunch?" Back handed and taste of blood in my mouth. No sense of humour, these Goa'uld. Their capacity for hatred is only exceeded by their pleasure of pain on the scale of the Marquis de Sade. Really have to learn to control my mouth. 

"Now, Colonel. Is that anyway to speak to your God." 

"You're not any god of mine." If I could have found a way to do it, I would have spit in his face. 

"That is your mistake, Colonel." 

"What's that?" 

"Thinking I care." Fucking mocking bastard turned away. "I want those codes, Colonel, and you will give them to me or die." 

"Hate to disappoint you, but I'm not telling you crap." 

"You must have another way to get back." 

"I don't know the schedule." 

"Then you are of no use to me." First I'm useful, now I'm not. Just some fucking pawn in a game of chess where I'm not even sure there is a White Queen. At least on Sokar's ship, I had a fighting chance. 

Uh oh, he's showing teeth. "Let me know when he dies." 

Is there an echo in here? I could have sworn I've heard those words before. Oh that's right, I have. I said it to Apophis, when he was dying. Really bad choice of words there. Oh well, it's still a good day to die. Damn who said that? Teal'c? No, Daniel, it yet another one of his endless lectures. What was he going on about? Apache? Cherokee? No, Sioux. That's it. 

It's a good day die. Sorry, Daniel. I didn't get a chance to say goodbye. 

~~~ 

**Power** \- _Strength or force exerted or capable of being exerted; might_. 

-November 1999- 

Just when I thought I was dead, they bring me back again. What do I need to say to get this snakehead to end my life once and for all? Hey, be careful! Those knees need to last me for another five or six deaths. Oh crap, I'm in the throne room. 

Okay, this is not good. If there is anything worse than one Goa'uld, it's two - and they are smiling. Although I'm not sure you can count those as smiles. More like involuntary muscle twitches. 

"A present for you, my queen." Hey didn't he already have one of those. That one didn't work out too well. 

"If at first you don't succeed, Apophis?" I really have to work on my insults. Not exactly effective when you sound like a frog. 

"I am going to enjoy watching you die, Tau'ri scum." Oh great, more entertainment for the masses. Can we just get on with it? The suspense is killing me. How do you want me? Kneeling with my head bowed? Nailed to a cross? Held between two Jaffa while you two take pot shots at me? Sorry, can't stand on my own. My strength gave out days ago. 

"You have one of the Tau'ri, how fortunate...for me." You know, I thought she was a bitch when she was on Earth. I don't think she's improved with time. 

"You approve, my queen?" Hmm, fawning sycophant just doesn't work well on Apophis. And I _don't_ like that look in Niirti's eyes. 

"My Lord. I have an idea." Oh boy, I don't like the sound of that. Please...just kill me and put me out of my misery. I'd beg, but I already know it wouldn't do any good. There simply isn't an ounce of humanity in a Goa'uld. 

"They don't know he's alive. He will be my pet." 

If anyone ever asks me which is more dangerous, a guy snakehead out for revenge or a female Goa'uld with plans to take over the universe, I'll go with a woman every time. Every single fucking time. They plan for the long term, seeing not only the big picture, but the little picture too. They have better impulse control. 

I am so dead. 

~~~ 

"Die for your god." What is wrong with these people? Can't they take a hint? 

"No." 

It's the same thing over and over again. A wounded soldier is worthless, of no use to their god. Glory equals victory or death. 

I never know when I'm going to be punished. Never know when I've done anything wrong. I've been beaten within an inch of my life for daring to look Niirti in the eye. Ignored at other times, for daring to hit Apophis' Prime. And there's always the fear, fear of never waking up or losing a body part. 

I'd kill everyone in this room if I thought I had a chance in hell of escaping, but I don't. I've got to hang on. They'll come for me. Never leave a man behind, isn't that the SG-1 credo? And if I ever get back, I'm never going to complain about the food in the Mess Hall again. 

Every damn day, it's the same thing, that bitch Niirti arrives and her Jaffa remove me from the cell to go to the training hall. I fight, I die. I come back. 

"Who is your God?" Fuck you asshole. I'm not telling you shit. 

Stars, fucking stars. I can't see. Not paying attention. Where is he? Think, Jack. Listen. I've got to follow their movements. Need to know where the next punch is coming from. Where the next blow is going to land. 

I swear, the first thing I'm going to do when I get loose is murder this piece of scum. Dead as a door nail. I want to do it slowly and excruciatingly painful. Make it last for a long time...a very long time. But I know I'm not going to have that pleasure. If I ever want to get out of this hellhole, it'll be quick, clean and move on to the next guy. 

Apophis sure has come down in the world if this guy is his Prime. He needs some anger management for dissidents. 

Duck. Parry. Hit. Crap. I'm dead. Last thing I see before the shot from the staff weapon hits me is his smile. Just wait, dog face. One day, I'm actually going to have a gun. 

~~~ 

I awoke hanging from the ceiling of Apophis' dungeon again. What have I forgotten, what rule did I mess up? That bitch has no right...I don't deserve this...do I? 

Christ, dogface is back and I start to sweat. I know what's coming next, the whip. It's a struggle to breathe. Sparks dance before my eyes, white dots flashing in and out of the darkness as the leather hits my skin, blood seeping from the criss-crossed welts on my back sliding down the back of my thighs to floor. I'm going insane. 

"Who is your god?" Niirti. Queen Bitch. The voice I will _forever_ associate with hell. 

"Not. Mine." I can barely talk my voice is so raw. Doesn't matter. The whip only stopped for a second. 

"Wrong answer, Tau'ri." 

What I wouldn't do for something to eat. Something to drink. My dreams are filled with thoughts of steaks and beer, or even better a glass of whiskey with a touch of tonic water. 

"Who is your god?" 

"Jesus Christ." 

Fuck off lady. 

"I will ask you one more time, Slave." Come on bitch. Closer. Closer. Just one more step. That's all I ask. One more so I can reach your face. I'll bite your fucking nose off. 

"Who. Is. Your. God." 

"I have only one god, and it ain't you." I froze, wrong fucking thing to say. Way to go Jack. Just what the bitch wanted to hear. Niirti had an evil smile plastered across her face with eyes colder than the Antarctic. I waited to see what her response would be and from the looks of it, I should have kept my big mouth shut. 

"Castrate him." 

"Wait!" 

"You had your chance, Tau'ri." 

"I'll do anything you want." 

"Anything?" Sadistic bitch. Christ, yes. 

"Yes." 

"Cut him loose." 

I fell to the floor in a heap. 

"Kneel at the foot of your god, Slave." 

That's all I need to do to stop this pain. All I have to do is cross that line, kneel at her feet. I can do that. It doesn't mean anything. Claim to be her servant. I can pretend. 

God, it hurts. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts. 

"See, my pet. Was that so hard?" Just stick me in the Sarcophagus, Lady. I did what you asked. "Take him back to his cell. Continue with the castration." 

"No! You can't do this!" 

"Remember this well, Tau'ri. I can do anything I want. You will never forget another lesson again...will you?" 

I don't care how it looks. I start begging, pleading. Fuck, screaming one word as I'm dragged off, "NO!" Did I really expect her to listen? Not really, but God I wanted her to. No man should have to live like this. She really is one sick, twisted bitch. 

"Make sure he is fed and cleaned before I visit tomorrow." 

~~~ 

"On your feet slave." 

Screaming. Who's screaming? Shut him up, I'm trying to die over here in my corner. Oh fuck, I can't move, can't breathe... 

"Shut up, Tau'ri or I'll do it again." 

"Right." I gasp. 

I try to breathe again and keep out of kicking distance at the same time. I remember this guy, he's got a wicked left. I've lost three fingers to his boots, not counting how many times he's cracked ribs when I didn't move fast enough. I'm trying to get up off the floor but something's not working right. Like something's missing. 

No, oh god no. Shaking my head, I pull back against the wall. This can't be happening. Can't be happening. I think I'm going to puke. I think I'm going to pass out. Hell, why fight it? If I'm lucky, I'll bleed to death. I let the darkness take me. 

~~~ 

"Get him on his feet." 

No. Not again. Go away. 

"Come, My Pet. Time to wake up." 

No. 

"I said to open your eyes, Slave." 

Pain. Yes. Must listen. I need to listen. Don't forget. Never forget. I open my eyes. "Yes, Mistress." 

~~~ 

"So what's it going to be Jack? Are we going to continue dancing around each other or do something about it?" 

Have you ever been handed your best wet dream on a silver platter? That was Daniel. Standing there on my doorstep. In the rain. His eyes focused solely on me. 

"What do you want Jack?" 

"You..." The hell with the Air Force. I could live without it. 

He took the keys from my hand and led me into the house. I was nervous. Didn't know what to expect. Do I kiss him? Touch him? Where to even begin. 

All those questions silenced with one fell swoop, Daniel leaned in and kissed me. It was so soft, so gentle, so giving. Giving me what I needed. His hands cupped my face, thumbs rubbing along my jaw. Every caress special. Almost as if his hands were talking. 

Pulled me into his arms. And it was an explosion of heat and cold and fire and water and everything in-between. 

"I think we're a little wet, Jack." He murmurs against my lips. 

"Ya think?" 

He laughed and started pealing clothes off. Mine and his. Leaving a trail down the hall way as he pulls me to the bedroom. I guess that's so we can find our way to the kitchen in the morning? 

He falls back onto my bed naked, watching as I finish pulling my pants off. Sweet Jesus, all that smooth skin and tanned from head to toe. What in the hell am I doing falling in love again? I'm forty-three years old. 

"Come to bed, Jack." And just like that, I'm doing what he says...the civilian ordering the CO around. Should I call him 'Sir'? 

~~~ 

**Subjugation** \- _To bring under dominion; subdue_

-December 1999- 

What day is it? 

"You have to eat sometime, Satada." 

There is nothing worse than man's own inhumanity against man. No device of torture that the Goa'uld could invent that man himself hadn't already accomplished through lesser means. The heat, the cold, the environment itself, they were all used. Men beaten until there was nothing left of their skin. Men bled, whipped, crushed, bodies mutilated beyond belief. I wouldn't be surprised if the Goa'uld had shown those poor saps in Egypt just how to start things off. There's just one thing...torture doesn't always work. 

But, as they say, the way to man's heart is his stomach. Or in the case of a Goa'uld bitch trying to bring her slave to heel, through his mind. The mind is what breaks. If you can break the mind, you'll have a devoted servant for life. Cram any piece of flesh into the mould you want. This is the part I really hate because there isn't any defense they can teach you. You just have to wing it. 

This is the fourth time in as many days that I've been forced to eat. Who wants to live like this? Where is SG-1? Where is Daniel? 

There is no one and nothing that can save me now. I don't even know where I am. I want to die. Please anyone, I want to go home. 

I just forgot to eat. I don't do it on purpose. Kneeling between Niirti and Apophis' feet like a dog begging for scraps. If I want food, I have to say it. It's a ritual. 

It's like being back in basic where I have to beg to piss, only worse. This is hell, a prisoner in a prison of my own choosing. 

"Say the words." 

Give me food, Bitch. 

Somehow I don't think that will go over well with Niirti. How much is my pride worth? How much of myself am I willing to give up? I've given up my name, I crawl like a dog, call these scum Master. How much further am I willing to go to just stay alive? 

"You will obey me mufta'ah, or..." She grabbed ahold of what was left of my manhood. "To prove your obedience, you will lose this as well." 

No! Quickly, I spit the hateful words out. "Please, Mistress. I, your most worthless slave, beg to be fed." 

Ever stood in front of a crowd and felt totally naked? As if every flaw, every thought was on display? That's me. That's my reality. Naked except for a chain wrapped around my neck. Which at the moment is Niirti's favourite method of punishment. 

There's this stuff on my neck, it's like lube. Hell, lets call a spade a spade - super lube under the chain and I can't get a grip. Suffocating. The chain slides easily and I choke, gasping for air, clawing at the collar, mouth open, food being shoved in and I'm forced to swallow it dry. 

And I'd better chew it damn carefully, because I don't have permission to die. My Mistress won't let me. 

~~~ 

"Christ, Daniel! You're getting crumbs everywhere!" 

"You planning to throw me out of bed, Jack?" Devious look. 

"No. Just," I waved my hand. "Quit getting food all in the sheets." 

"You're just jealous because I took the last piece." 

"You could have at least left me a tiny slice." 

"Jack?" 

"What?" 

"Shut up." About damn time. 

Heaven. There's nothing else like it in the universe. It's a rich blend of coffee, chocolate, and Daniel all mixed together. I could live off of this taste alone. 

~~~ 

"Satada Minuh." I crash to the floor, yanked out my memories with a vicious jerk and a bloody nose. "Now that I have your attention." 

I _hate_ that name. I _hate_ that look. I really, really _hate_ that look. I just know, whatever is going to happen next, I'm not going to like it. 

"Follow E'tzikel. He will take you to the bathing chambers. You will wash and remove all hair from your body." 

What the fuck? My confusion must have shown on my face. 

"You are to be clean-shaven from head to toe." Niirti caressed my cheek. "Do not disappoint me. The penalty for disobedience is high." 

E'tzikel grabbed my chain and pulled me from the room like a dog. Which, when you think about it, I was little more than an animal to these people. I wonder when I'm going to get the old snake to the brain? 

Hathor certainly didn't waste any time. She started waving one of those serpents in my face before our first kiss. Technically. That turning me into a Jaffa thing doesn't count. 

I was thrown on the floor yet again when we reached the bath and watched by the leering guard as I was washed and shaved by other slaves. In some ways, this is worse than prison. At least in prison, you have some rights. 

Privacy is a foreign concept around here. 

It's invasive, personal, everything in your face. Like the slave about to shave around my cock. Oh...Christ. Don't. Fucking. Breathe. Jack. 

"I'd hold really still if I were you, Odalisque. You don't want to lose..." The creep was going to touch me. 

"Touch me and I'll take your fucking head off." I grabbed his wrist and in the process, knocked one of the bottles of perfume into the bathwater. Hell, I'm going to smell like a three dollar whore. 

E'tzikel threw something at the tub with a smirk, which I barely caught before the bundle ended up in the now rank bathwater. 

You think this is funny, asshole? I'm going to find a way to make sure you know what it feels like to be castrated. I'm going to personally cut your cock off myself. 

Clothes! I've earned the right to wear clothes. I struggled to remember what I did to earn the privilege. It certainly wasn't anything I said. Gauntlets, shoes, shin guards, and a leather kirtle. 

I'm going to look like some weird-assed gladiator but what the hell. I sigh as I pick up the last item and slip it on. A silver collar with some script I can't read, but I'm sure Daniel could have given me a dissertation on the language. It's probably nothing more elegant than, 'Property of Apophis. If found, your God demands that you place this escaped pond scum on the next inter-galactic transport.' 

And what the fuck does Odalisque mean? I'll be damned if I ask this jerk. 

Clean and dressed, I feel almost human. But still a...a slave. What the hell have I gotten myself into? There's nothing heroic about surrender. Stories aren't written about the men who survive, only those who die. Long epic tales about men and women who threw themselves on live mines or took hundreds of the enemy down with them. I'm a soldier, damn it. 

A soldier. 

With a collar on his neck being prodded down yet another hall by an over-grown ape the size of Wisconsin with a staff weapon and a hard on for my ass. 

To the private apartments of Niirti and Apophis. 

I balk at the door. "No fucking way in hell." If I step inside, I may as well kiss Jack O'Neill goodbye forever. Even in my pitiful time as a slave, I've heard about what goes on in there. And. I. Am. Not. Going. Inside. 

"There is no choice in this matter, Satada. You are Et'Sabit Odalisque." Niirti nodded to E'tzikel and I was picked up and thrown yet again on the floor. I'm going to be one big bruise tomorrow morning. 

"I see you have to be reminded of your place." 

Of course, bruises are the least of my worries at the moment. "No. I'm good. I'm getting in the bed, see?" I scramble as quickly as I can into the fucking bed. 

Eyes glowing, Niirti stalks across the room, aiming a ribbon device at my head. "Who is your god?" 

"Apophis," I gasp out as the pain begins. I am damned. 

"What are you?" 

"I am his...his...slave." 

"Say it. _Et'Sabit Odalisque._ Concubine. Bodyguard. To Apophis." 

"I am...Et'Sabit Odalisque." 

"Good boy." 

"Yes, Mistress." Bitterness replaces the pain. 

"Serve me well, Satada Minuh and eventually I will let you die." 

If I'm really lucky, it'll be a short life. 

~~~ 

**Oppression** \- _to overwhelm or crush._

-September 2000- 

There was a murmur from the crowd as the man slid into the pit, dead, his blood coating my arms. The world sharp and focused. Everything brighter. The rage filled me, the need to possess, to own, as I stepped up to the next. He was begging for his life, begging for mercy. The power I held in my hands at that moment, it was almost as good as sex. Tasted even sweeter. 

I lifted the blubbering idiot from the ground by his shirt. 

"You have offended your God Apophis. You will die." 

I sliced into the side of his face with my knife. The first of many cuts that this fool would suffer. The sound of his screams fed a longing that echoed my rage. It was a game to see how long I could draw it out before the struggles lessened. I needed the criminal to stay alive long enough to draw the rage, pull it from me with every breath. Every slice of the knife into his flesh another piece of nirvana. 

Intoxicating. 

You could say it was a communion with my God. Carrying out his orders, his Et'Sabit, giving me in his name what I couldn't have when he was gone. 

And then it was over all too soon, a gurgle bubbling up from the man's throat as he died. The light slowly fading from his eyes, dark, filled with terror that I fed off of, smiling as blood spurted from his neck. It was too soon. Much too soon, but I had my orders. I had to be back at the Palace at five. It was already creeping up to the appointed hour. 

Dropping the garbage to the ground, I turned to address the crowd. "Any other attempts at rebellion will be met with brutal force. You will not enjoy the rest of your worthless life. You will die by my hand, slowly, painfully." 

I turned on my heal, signaling the guard to follow leaving the families to clean up the mess. I wouldn't want to be them right now. There was precious little of the first man for burial; the dogs had already torn the body apart leaving nothing but a leg encased in a leather boot. It would be entertaining to watch them try to get it; unfortunately, I didn't have the time to spare. And I had no desire to be anywhere near the coming noise as the sun began to set. I treasured what little sleep I managed to get at night and their caterwauling would keep me awake for hours. I know. Apophis made me stay several times after such events simply because he wanted me exhausted and on edge the next morning. I made mistakes at such times. Mistakes he took great pleasure in correcting. 

Wine waited for me as I arrived back at the palace. It always did. Drugged, but I didn't care. I waited, relishing these few moments of clear thought. Nothing else would be provided for me until the wine was gone. Not food, not water, and I couldn't resist the lure for long. The drug was too addictive. The need would pull, my body would shake, and I'd turn into a slobbering idiot. That was the only piece of pride I had left and I selfishly clung to it. I drank the wine just as the first tremor of need poured through me. 

I gave up on any pretense of strength as Niirti entered the room. I fell to my knees, bowing my head. Two more days until Apophis returns and I can't stop my hands from shaking. Wanting to feel his touch. Every caress bestowed by Niirti designed to push the need higher and higher. I killed two men today for breaking the law, enjoyed every moment of it and the adrenaline was still pumping, enhanced by the drugs. Need and control warred constantly. A need no one but Apophis could fill. 

Something Niirti took great pleasure in proving it to me. She had me strapped to a bed and fucked by her guards once. I spent the next two weeks in agony not even able to walk. Then she had me fuck a slave she was displeased with three separate times before she let the boy die. I was never sure what he died of, head injuries or the blood loss. When the need struck, I couldn't control myself and she knew it. I'd cut that boy so many times as I pounded into him, my knife flying as the rage grew. I couldn't come. I'd tire long before my body was ready to quit. 

She'd made her point; no one but Apophis would do. It only made the anger stronger and the people lived in fear of the Et'Sabit Odalisque of Apophis. They'd cower in fear at the mere mention of my name. Cower in fear of the man who wasn't a man at all. I was living up to my name. Which, I assume, had been Niirti's intention when she made me a slave instead of allowing me to die. Satada Minuh; man, but not. 

Two more days. Then I could sleep. 

~~~ 

"Jack?" 

Startled, I turned around at the sound of Daniel's voice knocking the head off of my snowman. Damn it. It had taken me two hours to get it just right. "Hey. I thought you weren't due back for two more days?" 

"Having fun playing in the snow?" Daniel leaned against the doorway smirking. 

"It was supposed to be a surprise." I brushed the snow off of my chest and leaned down to clean off my pants and boots. 

"Well, I'm surprised." Laugh it up, Dannyboy. 

A snowball somehow magically appeared in my hand and I couldn't resist. I had to wipe that grin off of his face. It caught Daniel squarely in the chest. Now if only he wasn't wearing a coat. 

"You are a dead man, Jack." Daniel stalked across the porch and out into the yard. Casually, he scooped some snow from the ground. "You know..." he packed it into a ball. "This means war." 

I ducked behind the headless snowman as Daniel lobed one after another in my direction. I fought back with all the determination of a twelve year old during the first snowfall of the season. Which means we were both covered from head to toe in less than fifteen minutes. 

"No, welcome home? I missed you?" Daniel called from his position by the porch. 

One missed my head by a inch as I peeked over the top ready to take aim. "I missed you. How was your flight?" 

"Boring!" 

Daniel had had enough, deciding that a more direct approach was needed and tackled me. In the process, knocking down what was left of the snowman. Looking up into bright blue eyes sparkling with mischief, I couldn't help but laugh. "You killed my snowman, Daniel." 

"Had to be done, Jack." Daniel looked over at the pile of snow in the middle of the yard. "He needed to be put out of his misery." 

~~~ 

Shouting echoed through the hallways as one of the Jaffa burst into Niirti's chambers falling to his knees the moment the door was opened. I rose quickly, putting myself between the intruder and my Mistress before the guard had even entered the room, knife at the ready. I wanted to throw the thing at him purely out of spite. 

"What is the meaning of this!" Glowing eyes were never a good sign. I was thanking my lucky stars that this time someone else was going to feel her wrath. It also meant that I could release some of this tension that had been building all evening. Let me, let me, let me. Please, let me kill him now. 

"Forgive me, my Queen. The Tau'ri have come through the Gate and are attacking." You're going to have to do better than that. Not nearly enough groveling. I anticipated his death at my hands later. 

"Satada." 

"Yes, my Queen." 

"Kill the Tau'ri." 

"Get the Queen to safety." I pushed the imbecile to the floor as I grabbed my gear, bowed to my Queen, and left. It's about damn time. I'd been planning for this day since I was taken. The question was, did the SGC know I was here, or were they after something else. 

As I stalked through the halls, it was apparent that control and order needed to be restored as soon as possible. I started shouting orders. As Et'Sabit, only the Gods themselves could countermand my orders. The south entrance was a ruse. The true attack would come from within, assuming that they weren't already inside or completed their mission. There were only two thing of any value on this rock - myself and my Queen. 

"Jaffa! Kree! Get the Queen to the ship and double check it for sabotage!" They were all fucking clueless idiots preferring numbers to actually thinking. "E'tzikel, you have command. Allow one hair on her head to be harmed, I will track you across the universe and fucking tear your worthless hide apart with my bare hands." It's nice to be the boss. Strike terror into the hearts of men. 

Grinning, I slip into the darkness and start searching. They're here somewhere. The first reports indicated SG-3, 5, and 13. Time to find SG-1. 

I had the hometown advantage and I was going to make the best of it. There were also a few surprises awaiting anyone foolish to think this palace was the same as any other Goa'uld residence. With a few flicks in the main control room, I had the place wired for visual and sound. The situation was hot. 

I scan the complex quickly, searching for small signs, anything out of place, wrong. It would be like looking for a needle in a haystack if you didn't know what to look for. I started whistling, some childhood rhyme that seemed to match the occasion. Sesame Street. That's it. One of these things is not like the other. Which of these things doesn't belong. 

Houston, we have made contact. Bingo. There, the generator room. That room was locked and no reason for anyone to be there. Small flash of movement and the heat sensors verified my suspicion. Someone was moving around in there, attempting to be secretive. I caught a glimpse of a dark face. The Shol'va! Apophis will be pleased. 

Another quick scan of the palace and I'm off. Niirti is safely off world. They can't touch her now. Surprise is on my side. Sneaking down the quiet hallways, gun at the ready, I creep into the generator room. No one. 

Something isn't right. The indicator on my wrist registers body heat, but there's no one here. I straighten, stalk to the computer panel. Fuck. He's escaped. Which way did he go? What did he do? 

I search the panel finding nothing tampered with. No ticking time bombs. Something is not right at all. I turn around searching the shadowed corners of the room when it hits me, a zat blast seemingly from _nothing_. 

I gasp, clutching my chest as I fall to the floor. Hell, they were invisible. I should have paid more attention. 

"Jack!?" 

The Shol'va stands over me, his expression caught between anger and pity. Fuck you, asshole. I smile through the pain rushing through my body. I'm not dead yet. 

"Teal'c! What are you doing?" Sam grabs his arm as he deftly uses duct tape to tie my hands and feet together like a prize bull ready to be branded. "That's the Colonel!" 

I watch as the Shol'va's face shuts down. The model of warrior stoicism. "We have found what we have come for. This _is_ the Et'Sabit." 

"You must be mistaken, Teal'c." Daniel looked horrified. Good, keep that thought. I can use it, four eyes. 

"I am sorry DanielJackson. Colonel O'Neill is the criminal which we seek." 

I start spitting curses, demanding to be released at once. They are all dead once I get free. Dead. And I will enjoy every minute of it. 

There's a faint pinch in my neck and the world starts to fade away. Not a problem. I can wait. 

~~~ 

**Salvation** \- _Preservation or deliverance from difficulty_. 

-October 2000- 

~~~ 

"Physically, I can heal him, General. Possible renal failure, abnormal enzyme levels, mild convulsions. Frankly, I'm more concerned with his mind at the moment. He was held by the Goa'uld for over a year. What they did to him...well, it isn't pretty." 

I wake up to the sound of voices heard from miles away. Sluggish, like hearing through water. Can't lift my hands and the world keeps fucking moving. Where the hell am I? Why can't I move? Crap, deja vu. Niirti. Orders. Kill SG-1. Did I...? 

"Is there any possibility that he can return to active duty?" I know that voice. Can't be real. This isn't real. Just need to get free. I test the restraints. If I just jerk hard enough, I can get my hand free. 

Someone's coming closer. Don't touch me. Don't fucking touch me. _You can't hold me!_ I want to demand that these traitors let me go, but all that comes out is some garbled whisper. I sound like a frog with rocks in its throat. 

"I think our patient is awake, General." 

" Colonel O'Neill, glad to see you're awake son." That voice again. Not real. Not real. This is all a trick. A fucking test. "How are you feeling?" 

Who? Oh me. I'm just dandy. Let me go. Now. 

"General, I don't think the Colonel can speak just yet. Why don't we let him sleep and take this conversation to my office?" 

Yeah, that's right. Run away. As soon as I get my strength back, you're all dead. As they walk away and I notice a third person that'd been standing in the background watching. 

The traitor. 

The one responsible for my failure. My capture. I have a special place for her reserved in My Mistress' torture chamber. 

"Just how long have you known that Colonel O'Neill was alive?" When I'm done with her, there won't be a thing left of Anise for the Tok'ra to bury. It will be slow and painfully. I'll find their lair and kill them all. 

"There was nothing we could have done, General Hammond, but we can use him to stop Apophis and Niirti." Not in this lifetime, bitch. 

The door shuts behind them and I'm left with some idiot trying to force ice into my mouth. If I wanted ice, I would have asked for it. Get the fuck away from me. I close my eyes and block out his voice. I know what I need to do. Sleep now and plan. In a few hours, they'll be moving me. I'll need my strength. 

~~~ 

Three days. I've been trapped in this nightmare for three fucking days. And they're back again with determined looks plastered all over their faces. Doesn't anyone read the handbook? 

"Well if you have any suggestions, I'd be glad to hear them." 

"What about the Nox, General?" 

I don't know what they expect to accomplish with this folly. It's too late for me. I stare outside the door and all I see is the innocence around me; Sam so hopeful, Teal'c so prepared to work and Daniel so lost, so out of his league. Can't you see Dannyboy, Jack no longer exists. 

You don't want to see do you? It's so much easier for you all to believe there is hope for the damned. 

What stories shall I tell you with today? Do you want to hear how I sank to my knees and begged Apophis to make me his? Or how I killed in his name? What would horrify you the most, to know I gave myself willingly or that I enjoy what I do? 

"Please step away from the door Colonel O'Neill." Or what Teal'c, you going to blast me with that Zat? I dare you. Go ahead. I'll even stick my face in the door so you can't miss. 

"My name is Satada Minuh." When will these people get it through their tiny little brains? I have a new name. I'm happy. I. Don't. Want. To. Be. Saved. "I am Et'Sabit Odalisque." 

Surprised you didn't I, Shol'va. 

"What? Teal'c? What is he talking about?" I wait for Daniel's face to fall. I know how these people think. I have to hit them hard and fast. Keep them off-balance. Love that look of disgust, Teal'c. 

"Colonel O'Neill has given himself as property to Apophis." 

"What?" Daniel is more confused than anything else. You must not have told him about that little bit of Jaffa society, Teal'c. I've learned a lot while I've been away. How could you give it up? All that power. All that control. You could have had the world at your feet. 

"Property? There's no way the colonel would have consented to becoming anyone's property Teal'c. He was drugged or something." Finally, a comment from the peanut gallery. I was wondering when Sam's brain was going to kick in. 

"The fact remains MajorCarter, Colonel O'Neill now belongs to Apophis." Not going to tell them the rest? Oh, this is going to be good. Let me do it for you. 

The world suddenly goes black. 

~~~ 

Ow. Ow, ow, ow. Shit that hurt. Double whammy. I'll have to note that in the handbook, a zat blast and a metal door to the head at the same time work wonders for taking an opponent down quick. 

"O'Neill." 

Make that two zat blasts. Always get them while they're down. 

"You will refer to me as Et'Sabit, or not at all." Ow! God damn it! "Touch me again and I will kill you where you stand." 

"You will not speak of Apophis in my presence again." He gets in my face, making his point with his attitude as much as his words. I'm impressed. Seems as if Teal'c has learned a few new tricks since I've been gone. 

"Oh? I thought you wanted to know all about it, Shol'va." 

I stand up, shaking off the ringing in my ears. Shouldn't have taught him how to box. Guy's got a right hook like you wouldn't believe. Never show weakness. Never. 

"I am fully aware of what the position entails, _O'Neill_." 

"Et'Sabit." 

"O'Neill." We get into a staring contest, but I'm going to win. No traitor to my God is going to make me back down, even if my head is still spinning. 

"Teal'c?" Fuck. 

"DanielJackson." The big guy hasn't taken his eyes off me. 

"The General wants us in the Briefing Room." One nod of his head and he's out the door. 

"I shall return, O'Neill." I think I underestimated the Shol'va's resolve. I may have to play along. 

"Jack?" 

I turn my back on the door. Why do these people insist on calling me by that name? I think I will whip it into their skins just before I kill them. "My name is Satada Minuh." 

"Jack, it's me, Daniel." I can just see the big puppy dog eyes, like some disgustingly furry creature that makes you do just about anything to wipe that look away. I refuse to see him. I'm not falling for false apologies. 

"I know who you are, Tau'ri." 

"Jack. Look at me." He demands softly. I can't stand that voice. I remember it from my nightmares. From my dreams. It's too late, Dannyboy. You can't save me. Salvation isn't in the cards. 

"I don't waste time on dead men, Jackson." I lie down on the bed, with my hands under my head, and stare at the bunk above me. Eventually he'll go away. He has a meeting with the General and I have an escape to plan. 

~~~ 

**Damnation** \- _To condemn to everlasting punishment or a similar fate; doom_. 

-Two weeks later- 

~~~ 

So nice of Daniel to leave his pen here. I don't think he'll need it anymore. I take it apart, pulling out the spring and snap the clip off the end. There's more than one way out of a dungeon. I've learned that lesson the hard way. Bending the clip and flattening out the spring, I get to work on the lock. The SP disappears when the klaxons continue to go off. It's just the chance I've been waiting for. 

I had to hide the pen in a hole along the mattress seam since I'm not supposed to have anything that might be used as a weapon. He hasn't noticed it missing yet. I can be an extremely patient man when I need to be. 

I've been hiding the drugs there too. The orderlies have grown lax and after the first few times when I was such a good patient they didn't wait to see the drugs take effect. It's a simple matter of spitting the pills up and hiding them. I can't take the chance of anyone finding them in the head and with the camera following my every move. It would have been impossible. 

Slipping the spring into the lock and holding the lock still with the clip, I jiggle the spring around until I feel the tumbler slip and turn. With a snick, the door opens and I'm free. Free. 

Time to take out the cameras. 

With all the activity going on, no one notices yet another person in uniform hurrying down the hallway. Takes about five minutes to get to the Security Office and the alarm has been set off yet. My luck is still holding. Takes a second to pick the lock on the Security Office and I'm in. The SP doesn't even notice me. He's too busy watching the cameras focused on the action in the Gateroom. Interesting. Anise. Martouf. Blood. Gunfire. 

A simple twist of his neck and the guard is dead. I wish I had the time to do it properly, but blood is not a good look when you're trying to blend in. I hit erase on all the cameras, take the SP's gun, and cross the wires on the fuse panel. That will take care of the cameras for a few hours at least. I've got two hours tops to find a way out of here. 

~~~ 

It's just like the old days. I can feel the excitement in the air. Like the day we went to Hell and everyone but me came back. I waited. Waited for over a year to be saved. No one came. They left me there to be tortured and killed by Apophis. 

Expendable. 

A commodity to be used and brought back when there was something to be gained. Two weeks stuck in an Iraqi desert, my leg broken, and my last memory at the time was seeing Cromwell's face as the helo took off without me. He smiled. 

Fuck them all. 

_"For once the Tau'ri are useful."_ I can still hear Apophis' voice taunting me as he dragged me to Sokar's feet. If it wasn't for my groan of pain, I could have been Sokar's boytoy instead of Apophis. I wonder if one is really worse than the other. Does it really matter who I belong to? 

_"What is this?"_

_"I have brought you a gift."_ That's right, monkey breath, pay attention to me. Ignore the Snakehead behind you with a knife in his hand. Slice. Dice. No more Mr. Nice Guy and Apophis is dragging me off to the escape pods. 

I really wish he'd left me there. 

~~~ 

Uh oh. I'm so fucked if I don't find a way out of this hallway. Eventually the trail of dead bodies is going to lead back to me and someone will figure out I'm missing. And this one wouldn't die quietly. Door. Need a door. Tau'ri blood all over my clothes. Yes! The showers. 

Dragging the dead guard behind me, I hide him behind some lockers and start looking for a shirt to change into. It takes a second before it sinks in that this is SG-1's locker room. Daniel. Daniel always keeps a spare. I'm praying his habits haven't changed and sure enough, he's got one. As I'm changing, I hear the door open, grab the gun off the shelf, and turn around. Damn it all to hell. Fuck, Daniel. Are you everywhere? 

"Oh my god, Jack. What did they do to you?" 

Tears? For me? Don't waste your time. So I have a few scars. Big deal. I earned each one the hard way. A mark of defiance. A badge of honor. A lesson in humility. A symbol earned for Apophis, in his name. 

"Nothing I didn't ask for, Daniel." 

He seems a little shell shocked. Don't like seeing the evidence of your crimes, Daniel? You should have just killed me when you had the chance. Pointing the gun at the door and grabbing his arm, I drag Daniel out into the deserted hallway. "Come on, Geekboy. We've got a Gate to catch." I press the gun in his back. "And don't even think of trying to call for help or I'll kill you where you stand." 

~~~ 

Life moves in yet another cycle. Spin, spin, spin, turn, turn, turn. Silly Rabbit, Trix are for kids. My head is just a jumbled mess of cartoons, commercials, smiling faces, and nightmares. Follow the yellow brick road. Luke, I am your father. Use the force! 

"Jack." 

No wait, it was a truck wasn't it? Oh what the hell do I know? I never saw the damn movie in the first place. Movie. A movie. It was called... 

"Jack." 

No, it wasn't called Jack. Who the hell is Jack? Me. I'm Jack. Oh fuck. I'm Jack. Colonel Jack O'Neill, United States Air Force. NO, DON'T TOUCH ME. I'm Jack. I'm Jack. I'm Jack. I'm Jack. I _am_ Jack. I don't _want_ to be Jack. 

"Jack! Wait!" 

I run for the control room dodging personnel on my way. The confusion from the past two hours is still working in my favor and I lose Daniel down one of the endless hallways. I've got maybe five minutes to make it to the Gateroom. I can do it. 

I get there and Lady Luck is shining on me again. Gateguy and a tech are the only ones in the room. Can't use the gun. Too many people in the hallways. One, two, three and they are on their knees dead. Necks broken. Never knew what hit them. And I don't even need a code to open the Gate. The dialing program has already been started. Just have to put in the coordinates for Chulak and I'm home free. 

"Jack." Fuck. 

"Jack doesn't exist anymore." 

"Yes, you do, Jack! Just stop!" Daniel pulls me away from the board as the last symbol locks in place. "Talk to me." 

"No time. Why don't you drop by the Palace one day, Jackson." I look him up and down. "I'm sure My Mistress could find something to do with you." 

Daniel pulled away as if he'd been burned and asshole that I am, I have to take advantage of it. I push him against the bulkhead, grinding my hips against his and take his mouth hard. He's hard and full of life. I can feel the need singing through my blood. Take, take, take. Fuck, I remember this. Remember how good it felt. He groans into my mouth and his hands roam over my back, pulling me close. It's enough to make me want to forget about the Gate, but I can't. Not now. Not this close to getting away. 

Do you think you can win me over with sex, Daniel? Hey, I'm easy, but not that easy. I remember this like it was yesterday. That's one thing I never forgot, how it felt to be inside you. How it felt to make love to you. But it didn't save me in the end. I am still a monster. You couldn't save me then, and you can't save me now. Time to forget all over again. 

I hear footsteps coming down the stairs in response to the Gate alarm and slam Daniel's head against the wall long enough to stun him. I'm outta time. I tear the control panel free, toss it on the floor, and run. They can't shut the Gate off. They have to cut the circuit breakers. 

The Gate is open and waiting. It's my last, best chance for escape. 

~~~ ****

**Checkmate**

~~~ 

"Jack?" 

I just can't catch a break. On the ramp, ready to cross over and he just has to make one last ditch effort. So close I can smell his fear, his need, his blood from where I slammed him against the wall. 

I turn around. "Jack. Is. Dead, Daniel. Get that through your thick skull." I tap him right in the middle of his forehead. Not that it'll do much good, but I have to try. 

"Jack, would you just listen to yourself?" I always did like watching him when he was passionate about something. That's when Daniel seemed the most alive. When he was studying his rocks, artifacts...whatever. To me they all look like bricks. "This is not the Jack O'Neill I know. Not the man who would have given up his life for a perfect stranger or threaten his entire career just so a child could have a life. He's in there somewhere and I'm not ready to give up on him." 

"You better, Jackson. You're looking for someone who doesn't exist." 

"I'm not ready to give up yet, Jack. I've brought Lya. She can help you. Just give her a chance." 

"I'm not letting _anyone_ screw with my head. _You_ left me behind. _You_ deal with your own guilt. I'm not having any part of it." I shrug off his hand and turn around, ready to slip through the event horizon when he speaks again...so softly I almost miss it. 

"What about me?" 

I glance over my shoulder, annoyed and losing what little chance I have of getting away by the second. 

Oh just great. Perfect. Can you say timing? As usual the Marines have arrived in a blaze of glory, weapons hot. I'm sure Lya, the General, Anise, and a few others are right behind them. 

I'm just another walking corpse waiting to fall down dead. And he stands there, the demand in his face, in his body just begging me to remember, to wake up. He's the only person I know who can ignore a battle zone when he focused on something. 

There comes a point where you don't want to remember who you were. Where it's more painful to be alive than dead. I liked being dead. Liked not being Jack O'Neill. Just bidding my time. 

I haven't had much room for love and romance in my life. Been too busy being honorable, serving my country, being a 'good' soldier. Look where it got me. Sara and Daniel, they'd always been the best part of who I am. There's only one thing wrong with that, Sara gave up on me years ago. Daniel never will. Not unless I put it in a language he can understand. 

_'You just had to make me remember didn't you Daniel. Well, I don't want to. There's nothing left in this world for me. Not even you. You can't love me, not the man I've become.'_

Power, subjugation, oppression, salvation, damnation. It was all a blur. I really didn't feel like trying to explain it all to Daniel. So I took the easy way out. 

"Sorry, Daniel. No time for explanations. It's in the handbook." With that, I pulled my gun from my pocket, pointed it at Daniel, pulled the trigger and fell backwards through the Gate. The last thing I saw was the complete look of surprise on Daniel's face. He truly believed I would never hurt him. 

Sorry I had to destroy your illusions, Daniel. I'm not a nice person anymore. 

It was after all, the will of my Gods and I'd do anything to please them. Maybe one day I'd get lucky and they'd let me die too. 

\--The End-- 

One person with courage can make a miracle happen.  
\--Andrew Jackson


End file.
